


5. Where do You Think You're Going?

by Knitwritezombie (Missa_G)



Series: KWZ does Whumptober 2020 [4]
Category: Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Failed escape, Gen, Temporarily Mute Character, handwavy medical stuff, obi-wan kenobi's robe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-05
Updated: 2020-10-05
Packaged: 2021-03-08 01:54:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,033
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26843974
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Missa_G/pseuds/Knitwritezombie
Summary: Prompt: failed escape | rescue (sort of)Obi-Wan tries to make a break for it. He really doesn't like Medical.
Series: KWZ does Whumptober 2020 [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1948744
Comments: 4
Kudos: 128
Collections: Whumptober 2020





	5. Where do You Think You're Going?

**Author's Note:**

> Italics indicate sign language

Obi-Wan froze at the sound of the throat clearing behind him. 

“And just where did you think you’re going?” Honeycutt asked in a deceptively bland tone.

He sighed and turned around to face the medic. _Quarters_ , he signed. _Sleep_.

Honeycutt snorted. “Yeah, I’ll believe that when it happens. C’mon, sir, back in bed where we can keep an eye on you. Honestly,” he continued as he stepped forward to take Obi-Wan’s elbow gently. “I would have thought hiding your clothes and boots would have been enough.”

Obi-Wan had been only momentarily stymied to find that his clothes, boots, and robe had been tucked away somewhere. He was dressed in a pair of loose pants and a long-sleeved shirt, which was better than a patient’s gown, but he had known that he’d still get stares as he made his way back to his quarters on board the Negotiator barefoot. Apparently his control over the Force wasn’t as unimpeded as he’d thought, if Honeycutt had caught him before he’d even stepped outside of Medical.

He fixed Honeycutt with a frown but allowed himself to be escorted back to the bed. He didn’t see why he couldn’t just go back to his own quarters to sleep. Once he got caught up on a few reports and reviewed the latest intelligence data, and set up a meeting with Cody and the regimental commanders about troop morale, and read the briefings before the next council meeting (he could still attend via holo even if he couldn’t speak at the moment), not to mention prodding Anakin about formalizing some of his teaching plans for Ahsoka and updating her records.

Obi-Wan slid back into the bed with a sigh. He had work to do, and he could rest in his quarters, just as well as in Medical, and at least in his quarters he could put some distance between himself and the suffering around him. No matter how tightly he built his shields, he was never able to completely block out the emotions of others around them, especially in Medical. It was easier in the Temple where fellow Jedi could shield themselves (less so the initiates and Padawans, but that was to be expected). The clones had been taught rudimentary shielding, and those that worked more closely with the Jedi had more advanced training, but Obi-Wan knew from experience that it was more difficult to to maintain mental control when your body was in pain.

“Sir. Obi-Wan,” Honeycutt said, settling in the chair next to Obi-Wan’s bed after reconnecting the monitor to the inside of Obi-Wan’s arm. “I know you don’t like to be here. I get it. But I’m not keeping you here needlessly,” he explained, not ungently. “You know that I let you go as soon as reasonable.”

Obi-Wan nodded. They had reached a compromise over the course of the war, where Honeycutt wouldn’t keep him in Medical any longer than necessary so long as Obi-Wan otherwise complied.

“So you get that I’m keeping you here because I need to keep an eye on you to make sure you’re still breathing, so that Cody doesn’t have to divert anyone away from other duties to check on you in your quarters.”

Obi-Wan nodded again. _Work_. he signed. _Bored_. He hesitated for a moment. _Hurt_.

“You’re in pain?” Honeycutt asked quickly, glancing up at the monitors and standing quickly.

Obi-Wan grasped his wrist. _Not me. Others._ He’d been given pain relief just before he’d tried to return to his quarters, so he understood the medic’s concern.

All but a few beds of the Medical ward were occupied. Their last campaign had been brutal, and even though they didn’t lose many men, the casualty count was higher than Obi-Wan was comfortable with (any casualty count was higher than he was comfortable with). Those with less serious injuries had been released to their bunks after treatment to be looked after by their squadmates, but the number of those still critical was too high, and the reason they were en route to the Ord Cestus medical station where the vod’e could get the treatment that Honeycutt couldn’t provide.

A look of realization passed over Honeycutt’s face. “It’s overwhelming for you sometimes, isn’t it?”

Obi-Wan nodded his confirmation. He could probably trance himself down far enough to speed his own healing and block out the suffering of those around him, but that tended to decrease respiration, and Honeycutt was already worried about his breathing. 

“Don’t go anywhere, sir. I’ll be right back.” Honeycutt strode off, and Obi-Wan did his best to reinforce his shields and project calm and healing to those troopers around him. It helped a little, mostly because it gave him something to focus on. 

“Right,” Honeycutt said, returning with a datapad and tucking a comm into a pocket of the jacket he wore over his blacks when he wasn’t in the field. “I’ll make you a deal, General.”

Obi-Wan straightened a bit and nodded. 

“You will wear this monitor for the next 48-hours,” the medic said, pulling a small device from a different pocket. “One of the corpsmen will check on you every hour. If anything doesn’t feel right with your breathing or swallowing, you will page me. Anything,” he reaffirmed. “I don’t care what hour it is.”

Obi-Wan nodded again, this time a little more eagerly.

“Okay. Radar is going to escort you to your quarters,” the medic continued as the corpsman stepped into the ward, carrying a pair of soft shoes and one of Obi-Wan’s old robes that he thought he’d lost. “Let me just get this set up,” he said, pushing up Obi-Wan’s sleeve to remove the hard-wired monitor and replace it with the wireless one that was a condition of his release.

Radar draped Obi-Wan’s robe around his shoulders while Obi-Wan slipped into the shoes once Honeycutt was satisfied the monitor was hooked up and reporting data to his pad.

Before Honeycutt moved away, Obi-Wan stopped him again with another hand on his forearm. _Thank you_ , he signed. 

Honeycutt nodded curtly. “Sir, next time, just let me know, okay?”

Obi-wan returned the nod, and let Radar escort him out of the bay and to his own quarters.


End file.
